


Wherever You Go, I Will Follow

by dragonsfires



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, The Underworld, a very AU version, the shadowlands of asshai magic, what if he could meet with the lord of light face to face and make a deal, what if jon could go into the afterlife to find daenerys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsfires/pseuds/dragonsfires
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen dies at the hands of Tyrion Lannister after the destruction of King's Landing.Jon Snow, stricken by grief refuses to accept the death of his love and unborn child embarks on a mission to find a red priestess who will perform a ritual to send him into the afterlife to find her.





	1. Chapter 1

“We will make the world a better place.” Daenerys smiled, the gentleness in her pale violet eyes overshadowing all the destruction that had taken place only minutes before. “Together, _all_ of us.”

Jon Snow gazed back at his Queen as her fingers grazed one of the thousands of swords that held the iron throne together, and then to Tyrion Lannister whose brow furrowed.

“We cannot make the world a better place by burning those who did nothing to deserve it, countless of innocent people died during Drogon’s wrath against King’s Landing.” The cleverest of the Lannisters bit through clinched teeth, his hands balling into tight fists as the faces of his elder siblings in the rubble flashed through his mind. “It seems you’ve forgotten what you set out to do when I first met you.”

“I have forgot _nothing_!” The Queen snapped at her advisor, her full lips parting to reveal her teeth in a sneer as she glared at him. There was a flicker of horror in her expression, as well as rage and an overwhelming sense of grief. “I did everything in my power to make Cersei surrender, I listened to your council above all else and look where it got me.”

Tyrion gulped and narrowed his eyes at the Queen he had chosen.

“The bulk of the Westerosi banners that pledged their allegiance to me were wiped out by the Greyjoy fleet, and then they took _my_ dragon.” She whispered, shoulders tensing and jaw clinching at his wordless response. “Yes, I have blood on my hands but so do you – so do all of us. I suggest you remember that before you dare challenge me again.”

There was a long silence, an uncomfortable one as ash continued to float down from the sky into the destroyed throne-room. Closing her eyes, Daenerys sighed.

“Innocents died at my hands and I regret that it came to this, but war comes with a price and as ugly as that price is, it is necessary for the greater good.”

“Necessary?” Tyrion asked, his features twisting as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “The bells were ringing, Cersei did surrender to you. Perhaps not soon enough but still, the bells rung out in the city and you still chose to destroy everything in your path. What you did wasn’t necessary, it was evil.”

Turning from the throne, Daenerys marched towards Tyrion and stared down at him. “You murdered your own father, some say that was evil. You used wildfire on Stannis Baratheon’s fleet, and you and I both know there were innocent men on those ships – yet you burned them alive. You strangled the woman you loved… I could list every evil thing a Lannister has done but I’d be standing here for an eternity. I am not innocent, but neither are you. Maybe it’s time I select a new hand.”

Yanking the pin from his tunic, Tyrion threw the Hand of the Queen’s symbol to the ground. Jon watched the interaction from a distance, the tension so palpable he could cut it with his sword.

“I think that’s a wise choice, I said I chose you because I thought you could make the world a better place and I chose wrong.”

Daenerys ignored the imp and brushed past him, her eyes finding Jon’s. Slowly making her way towards the King in the North, she clasped her hands together gracefully.

“You’ve never once doubted me, I think having you by my side would –“

_Gasp_.

Stumbling, Daenerys looked down and felt the breath escape her at the sight of bloodied Valyrian steel protruding from her abdomen. Everything slowed down, everything went so quiet – she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat falter as she fell to her knees.

Jon’s eyes widened in horror, the disbelief and shock in his features instantly replaced by the need to protect his Queen. Drawing his sword from its sheath, his eyes narrowed in on Tyrion Lannister who dropped the bloody blade with a look of regret.

Snarling, the King sprinted forward and with all his strength swung his sword with a swift thrust. Valyrian steel cut through the Lannister’s neck like butter, blood spurted in every direction as the imp’s head fell from his shoulders and hit the floor with a dull thud followed by his body. He then fixed his attention on his love, wide dark eyes seeing blood pool around her.

“Dany!” he collapsed to his knees and pressed his hands against the wound, watching as blood spilled through his fingers. “Somebody help!”

She gasped and whimpered, her complexion growing paler by the second. “Jon?”

“Sssh, it’s okay. I’m here with you, I’ve got you.” He tried to reassure her, but the panic in both his face and voice let Daenerys know this was it.

“Our baby…” She hiccupped, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth as she spread a weak hand against the ones he held to her belly.

Jon frowned, his breaths shallow and his heart racing with adrenaline at the words that fluttered from her lips. He glanced at her fingers and then back to her face, the revelation hitting him like a hammer to the chest. Dark features crumpled and he let out a sob as her head lolled to the side.

“No, no – don’t leave me!” He shouted desperately, tears blurring his vision as he freed one of his hands to grip her chin. “Dany! _Please_, help’s coming – do you hear them?”

The sound of Unsullied and Dothraki boots thundered through the red keep as they approached the sounds of the King’s shouts.

But she would never see the loyal faces of her armies again. Pulling her lifeless body into his lap, Jon knew it was too late. Instead of holding together the fatal wound, he embraced her tightly and held her head to his shoulder. Rocking her in his arms, the King closed his eyes and heard the grieving screech of a dragon in the sky.

Daenerys was dead as was the child that had been growing within her belly. 


	2. Last of the Starks

“The Lords of Westeros arrived this morning, they’ve asked that you join them down in the dragon pit to discuss where we go from here.” Ser Davos stood in the doorway of one of bedchambers in the half of the red keep that had been untouched by dragon fire. He furrowed his brow, troubled eyes finding Jon slouched in a chair near the open window. The King in the North looked a shadow of his former self, the vacant expression he held one that made Davos uneasy. He was in no state to talk about politics, but there was no way out of this. The seven kingdoms were without a King or Queen for the first time in thousands of years, and the revelation of Jon’s true identity meant he had a claim to the throne. “It’s been three weeks since you’ve left this room, you’ll need to clean yourself up and I’ll have a squire bring you some bread and meat before we leave.”

“Did Bran get the raven you sent?” Jon rasped as he gazed out of the window and towards the sky. His hair had grown long, black curls wiry and beard unkempt. He looked like he’d crawled straight out of Flea Bottom.

Ser Davos paused for a moment and Jon turned to look at him.

“Aye, he did.”

“Tell me.”

“He said Drogon was spotted flying East towards Volantis, no word on if…” The Onion Knight pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, thinking of the right words. “We don’t know if he has taken Daenerys with him, or if he _left_ her somewhere. It’s apparently hard to keep track of a dragon, strange given the sheer size of the beast.”

“Volantis.” Jon murmured and looked out to the sky again, dark eyes narrowing in deep concentration. “Melisandre – Volantis was where she came from.”

Davos bristled at the mention of the red witch, too many horrific memories surfacing in his mind from the carnage she had created. He thought of Stannis, of the countless of innocents she burned at the stake for her Lord, he thought of Shireen. Even after she aided the North in the battle against the Night King, he still couldn’t bring himself to forgive her.

“Aye. That’s right.”

“The temple of the lord of light is in Volantis, I’ve heard the stories.” Pushing himself to stand, he looked slimmer than he had three weeks ago, the loss of appetite and refusal to step outside again after what had happened affecting him more ways than one. The King was frail, and the lords would be quick to point it out. “There are more of them over there, priestesses.”

“Forgive me, my King, but what do red witches have to do with anything? We need to focus on the Lords, they’ll be squabbling down in the pit right this second and they’ll be more than ready to try and denounce your claim as King of the seven kingdoms if you don’t meet with them soon.”

Jon tensed then, and an uncomfortable silence fell in the room.

“My claim?” His jaw tightened and a wave of grief laced with anger washed through him like wildfire. “_Fuck_ the seven kingdoms and fuck the Lords, they can all fight ‘till the death and rot in their own piss and shit. There was only one rightful claim to the iron throne and a Lannister cunt took her from me.”

“I understand that you loved her, and I’m sorrier for your loss than you’ll ever know, but Daenerys is dead. The Kingdoms need a ruler, and nobody is better for that role than you. Grief is a terrible thing, the pain never really goes away… but you can’t allow it to cloud your judgement. If you throw this opportunity away, you may live to regret it.”

Jon balled his calloused hands into fists until his knuckles turned white. He was done talking about claims and titles, they meant nothing to him anymore.

“Melisandre raised me from the dead after I took a dagger to the heart.” He changed the subject entirely, and Davos was ready to tell him to stop with talk of red witches but what Jon said next caught him off guard. “The Lord of Light is real, it isn’t just some magic trick – you saw it for yourself at Winterfell. If he can bring me back, he can bring _her _back.”

“You don’t know where her body is, and even if you did find Daenerys – it’s been _three _weeks.” Davos shook his head, he didn’t have to explain what happened to a body that lay in the heat of the sun for that length of time. There wouldn’t be much of her left. “From what I know, from what I’ve seen, there needs to be a body for a witch to work on.”

“I know this, but there has to be another way.” Strolling past his loyal Hand, Jon for the first time in three weeks left the bedchamber he had locked himself away in and walked through the eerily quiet halls of a once thriving red keep. Cersei Lannister’s presence still lingered in the air though she was gone, it didn’t bother Jon, but the hairs on Ser Davos’ neck stood on end.

“I don’t see how there could be, if there was, you’d think the witch would’ve told us about it.” The Hand walked alongside his chosen King.

“Melisandre wasn’t certain she could bring me back when she did, I don’t think even she knew how far she could push her power. Who knows what she was really capable of.”

Heading up a flight of concrete steps, Jon had already set his mission in motion. He was thinking and planning ahead for the next few weeks, he would need a trusted guide who knew how to navigate foreign lands. He needed gold, he needed his sword and he needed a ship.

“If you’re not planning on resurrecting Daenerys, then what exactly are you planning to do?” Davos followed Jon up into one of the many bathrooms, standing his ground by the door and lowering his gaze respectfully as the King began to strip himself of the clothes he’d been wearing for a countless number of days.

“I’m sailing for Essos.” He said and stepped into one of the stone baths that had been prepared earlier by one of the servants, Davos had instructed them to run a bath everyday and everyday he refused to wash until now. Sinking himself into the lukewarm water that was scented with rose oils, Jon felt the tension in his shoulders ease for a moment. “I want to face the Lord of Light, I want to look him in the eye and if I have to beg him to bring Dany back – I will.”

Davos said nothing, what more was there to say? Jon Snow was no longer a man of reason, he was a man torn apart by every wicked thing that had brought him to this very moment. The very fact he believed he could bargain with a God that had no physical form was enough to make the Hand realise how deep into his grief he was, this was a cry for help but Davos knew no man on earth would be able to stop him from pursuing this dark path into a world of witchcraft. If Jon thought there was a chance to get his love back, he would fight ‘till the death to see it happen.

“I won’t stop you from doing what you think is right, but would you at least stand before the Lords and let them know you have denounced your claim?” It was a tough question, one that pained Davos to ask. “Sansa, Arya and Bran are all waiting to see you.”

Resting his head of dark curls back against the bath, Jon closed his eyes.

“I will.” He agreed, knowing the Starks he had grown to believe were his siblings would be expecting his presence, especially Sansa. His heart sank at the thought of his sister, of how none of this would have happened the way it had if she hadn’t told Tyrion Lannister the truth about his identity. He wondered if this is what she wanted, she had taken a dislike to Daenerys the moment she set foot in the North, maybe having her killed was a silent victory for her cause.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Jon couldn’t bring himself to linger in the dark corners of his mind any longer. He would meet with the Starks and he would say goodbye to them before finalising plans to leave for Essos in the morning. Dunking himself beneath the water, Jon washed himself clean of the filth that had clung to him for weeks. When he finally dragged himself out from the bath, he used a sharp blade to cut the length of his beard down and tied his head of curls back from his face.

Davos had servants fetch a fresh set of dark clothes, along with his steel breastplate and sword. Once dressed, he looked like himself again.

A King, Davos thought. But it was not to be.

Heading out of the red keep, Jon felt a lump grow in his throat when Grey Worm and the leader of the Dothraki whose name he did not know greeted him. Daenerys’s armies had stayed when they could have left weeks ago, it was a painful reminder that she was gone.

“Jon Snow, we wanted to say goodbye before we leave Westeros.” The commander of the Unsullied bowed his head, the well concealed grief in his eyes a look that Jon knew well. “There is nothing here for us to fight anymore.”

Jon held his head high and eyed Grey Worm, realising then that he had found his ship to Essos. “No, there isn’t – but before you set sail, join us in the dragon pit. The Lords of Westeros are waiting to discuss terms, I have something to tell them that you’ll want to hear.”

Grey Worm narrowed his eyes curiously, and nodded. The commander of the Dothraki who enough of the common tongue to understand nodded too.

It was then that the last remaining Targaryen along with Davos and Daenerys’s sworn protectors walked the journey to where the Lords were waiting.

\--

Leading the way into the pit, Jon walked with the confidence of a King and gulped when he laid eyes on the assemble of people that had arrived in King’s Landing after the devastation. Arya straightened in her seat, blue eyes widening and her lips parting when she lay eyes on her brother for the first time in weeks. She felt herself feel vulnerable again, the hardened features of his face making her stomach sink. He made eye contact with her, and then to Bran who still had a vacant look about him and then to Sansa.

Sansa’s expression didn’t shift, she always had a talent for keeping her composure, but he noticed the way her hands tightened in her lap. 

There was a moment of silence, the soft whistle of wind in the distance the only sound to be heard before Yohn Royce of the Vale cleared his throat.

“We’ve been waiting a while, and to make things as clear as possible so that we don’t have to wait much longer… you have claim to the iron throne?” The Lord asked.

“There is no longer an iron throne to claim, it was melted by the dragon.” Robin Arryn spoke up. “Isn’t that right? Where is he by the way, the dragon?”

“He flew East.” Bran Stark murmured, keeping a steady gaze on his brother.

“To Volantis.” Jon added and Bran tilted his head curiously, a sudden realisation clicking within him.

“You have the biggest claim here, and I believe you are the right choice given the circumstances.” Yara Greyjoy spoke her peace. “I don’t think there’s a better option, a man who cuts a Lannister's head from his shoulders in one swing gets my vote. The Iron Islands could use a man with backbone leading the way.”

Jon lowered his head and sighed before meeting their gazes again.

“I came here to denounce my claim, not to fulfil it.” He finally said, seeing surprise in the faces of the lords as he swept his gaze across them all, but he was surprised to see Sansa lean forward in her seat and frown. “I don't want to rule, I was King in the North because the North chose me not because I wanted it and the same applies here.”

“You _have _to!” Sansa told him, trying to read his expression. “Jon, by blood right you are the _rightful_ heir. The Kingdoms are yours for the taking, and no-one can challenge you.”

“No.” He muttered, staring back at her with a cold expression. “They were never mine, I never wanted them. I didn’t want _any _of this. The rightful heir to the throne was Daenerys Targaryen, she was the best choice we could have asked for.”

Sansa pressed her lips into a firm line and shook her head.

“She killed hundreds of innocent people by burning them alive with dragon fire, the best thing that happened for Westeros is that her reign of terror came to an end before it even started.”

“The **_BEST_ **thing?!” Jon roared, his voice so loud that the Lords flinched in their seats. Sansa gulped, seeing rage find his eyes as he glared through her. “Daenerys saved the North when nobody else listened, she sacrificed everything for us! Without her armies and her dragons, Arya would have never gotten close enough to kill the Night King and you wouldn’t be sitting here passing your judgements. None of us would be. Yes, innocents died… but that is the price of war. No King has ever had clean hands, not even father. You despised Dany the moment you met her, don't you dare deny it.”

"I didn't despise her, I didn't trust her and I was right." She muttered. "When the bells rung in surrender in King's Landing, what did she do?"

Jon gazed back at his sister for a long moment before blinking down. 

"Cersei Lannister had her dragon killed, she had Missandei beheaded by the Mountain when Dany offered her the chance to surrender without violence. She lost control and she regretted it with every fibre of her being." He explained. "Blood always has and always will be spilled during war, both innocent and guilty."

"I suppose it doesn't matter much now." Sansa murmured, rolling her shoulders into a shrug. "I understand you loved her, Jon and I'm sorry for your loss but-"

“She was carrying my child, Sansa.” He interrupted her.

Sansa and Arya both glanced up at him then. Sansa’s well-constructed defensive wall faltered and tears pricked her brilliant blue eyes at the unexpected revelation.

“I lost them both and now I'm back where I started, with nothing.” 

Not knowing where to look, Sansa dropped her gaze to her lap and felt a wave of guilt settle inside her.

"You could have everything if you just let yourself take it." Arya said, trying her best not to think about the baby that was lost. "Throwing your birthright away doesn't seem right or fair, you could make the world a better place - for all of us."

“No, I don't have it in me to lead anymore. I came here for one reason, to tell you all that I’m sailing for Essos in the morning.” Turning to look at Grey Worm, Jon watched as the Unsullied commander raised his brow.

"Why Essos?" Sansa asked, the continent's name rolling off her tongue like a bitter taste.

"The Temple of the Lord of Light is in Volantis, I plan to visit the priestesses who live there." He said, watching the Lords look at him in confusion. "The red witch Melisandre managed to bring me back from death when I was betrayed and stabbed at Castle Black, they have power to make the impossible possible."

"You plan to bring Daenerys back to life." Bran Stark spoke out. "You want to meet the Lord of Light yourself and offer him your life in exchange for hers..."

Jon gulped and hated the look of horror that fell upon both Arya and Sansa's faces. He didn't come here to traumatise them, it was not his intention. But he wouldn't lie to them, he was bound by his honour, even now.

"Jon..." Arya shook her head. "You can't!"

"I have to." He said matter of factly. 

"No." Sansa breathed.

"I _have_ to. If there is a chance I can bring her back, I have to try." He wouldn't be talked out of it and they knew that. "I can't live in a world where she doesn't exist."

"So, this is it then?" Arya asked, her voice cracking. "You're just going to sacrifice yourself?"

"Hopefully not." He told her, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't know how any of this works, I don't even know if it's possible..."

"Will you come back?" Sansa asked.

"I don't know." 

Standing from her seat, Arya made her way over towards Jon and embraced him. He rested his chin against her head of dark hair and held her tightly in his arms. This was goodbye, if he wasn't already so numb from losing Daenerys he would have teared up but he had shed enough tears for one lifetime. 

"You'll always be my brother, no matter what." She told him. 

"Of course I will be." He reassured her and ruffled his hand through her hair, smiling as she pulled back with tears on her cheeks. Turning to look towards Sansa and Bran, Jon sighed as his redheaded sister stared at the ground. She wouldn't look at him.

Bowing his head to the Lords one final time, Jon Snow turned on his boot to leave the dragon pit. Daenerys's commanders and Ser Davos followed after him, and Sansa lifted her gaze to watch him leave, tears sliding down her porcelain cheeks as he vanished through the gates. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful that you are all enjoying this story so far! Let me know what you think, Jon is a broken man and will stop at nothing to see his love again. What good would being King do if he can't have his Queen by his side?


End file.
